


I Got More in Store and You Got Me

by renneroo



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 17:45:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renneroo/pseuds/renneroo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something after their interview prompted Darcy to take a chance on those theater tickets and walk into Lizzie Bennet's office on Wednesday afternoon. This is the conversation that pushed them both into the territory of acknowledging what had been sitting underneath the surface of every word between them since Lizzie walked onto the grounds of Pemberley Digital.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Got More in Store and You Got Me

**Author's Note:**

> Not technically canon-balled since in my head it's set Post-83 and Pre-84(?)- just my interpretation of what might have happened in between videos.

“Lizzie, please forgive me if this is too forward, but there’s something I’d like to discuss something with you.”

At those words, Lizzie Bennet was still as a statue while she waited for William Darcy to follow the disclaimer up with whatever it was he felt so compelled to say. 

The last time she had heard words like that, things had spun out of control. She had come to regret it, of course, as in the aftermath, she found out exactly what kind of man it was that had sat down beside her, so very nervously, and confessed that he loved her. Every interaction since then, even the smallest of them, had shown her in how many ways she had been wrong about him in the beginning. It introduced her to a shame and guilt that somewhere between bowties and glasses had given way to the most doleful affection she’d ever known. Now, she wondered if by God or fate or the workings of the universe, she had somehow walked into the luckiest of second chances. 

“If you would perhaps be amenable to such a situation, I, along with many others, would like it very much if, after you have completed your degree, you would perhaps come back and work for Pemberley Digital full-time. ”

For whatever reason, she felt her heart sink into the pit of her stomach as her words got stopped up in her throat. It wasn’t what she expected. Then again, had she really expected him to say what she wanted him to say? She should’ve learned long ago that some mistakes while perhaps and hopefully were forgiven, couldn’t possibly be forgotten. 

She, at the same time, had the faint recollection that this had happened before, but when Ricky Collins sat beside her and offered her a job, the sensation of choking on the air inside her lungs had been out of horror and repugnance, certainly not like it was now- as she was simply wishing to hear words of a very different sentiment from him again with the hope that she would regain the ability to really breathe for the first time since the name Pemberley Digital had crossed her lips for the first time. 

“Darcy-I don’t know what to say. I have loved every minute of working here, but I’m not sure that I’m in a place to say yes to that kind of offer. I’m not sure that I’m qualified.” 

But as she started saying the words, which were beginning to sound like one more time that she would say no to William Darcy, Lizzie had visions of what it would actually be like, even without the hope of Darcy ever feeling the way he’d felt before. Thoughts and pictures of what would happen if she said yes ran through her head like a movie. 

She wondered if all the things that had been so wonderful about the last four weeks could possibly stay that way if she came back to Pemberley Digital as a fully-fledged employee- the friends, the scenery, the creative fulfillment she found here. She thought about the cafeteria lunches shared with Gigi in her office and of nights out doing ridiculous things she never would otherwise like karaoke but mostly of endless Saturday afternoons seeking out the places tucked away in the nooks and crannies of San Francisco with Darcy’s hand ghosting along her spine as they trekked the unforgiving slopes. The pictures in her head dissipated at the sound of Darcy’s voice.

“Lizzie, you must know that’s not at all true. You’re certainly qualified. Your education is certainly on par with plenty of Pemberley’s staff, but even if they have worked in the field longer, the work and success attached to your videos indicates a hands-on experience and familiarity with many of the platforms and aims of Pemberley’s projects. You’ve done an exemplary job in your time here, and a number of department and team supervisors have admired your efforts. I meant when I said that you’re a natural storyteller. You are capable of special things, Lizzie. We would be hard-pressed to find anyone else who is such a desirable fit for the team here.” 

He held her stare resolutely, and she was convinced that he was he would not turn his gaze until she believed what he said. She’d never known that he could be so terribly persuasive, but as she finally broke and inspected the color of her boots against the carpet, there was no alternative but to think that he fully believed every word of what he said. Lizzie still felt a hint of a shiver and a spark in her chest when he called her desirable, even though it was only in a professional capacity and certainly nothing more. Knowing it all had to be in her head, she still could have sworn that the five-foot space between where they stood in his office had shrunk tenfold in that moment in the midst of deserted office space. 

Perhaps the intimacy of the moment had far less to do with the state of Lizzie’s thoughts and far more to do with Darcy’s intentions in asking her such a question- the weight of it that he held in his eyes and in the steady, controlled cadence of his voice. Nothing he had said was untrue, by any means, but when he asked her if she would think about coming back to Pemberley, he was really asking if she would consider coming back to him. 

He was saying, in the subtlest way he knew how, “Please just stay, stay, stay. Stay here because you fit - at Pemberley, with my sister, with me. I can’t imagine this place-my life-without you now. It’s like there was a hole in all of these things that I couldn’t recognize, but your shape fills it.” 

It was the best he could do without saying all of those things out loud. Though he never really regretted falling for Lizzie Bennet, despite the moments with YouTube, the hat that used to be his favorite, and a bottle of scotch when he’d sworn it was the worst mistake he’d ever made, what he truly regretted was how candid he had been with her when he had walked into that room at Collins & Collins. That had been his hubris acting. That single act- the way that he had walked in, so sure that she would say yes- merited a good majority of what she’d said about him in her videos. He hadn’t realized any of this until the initial sting had worn down to the dull sort of pain that prompted introspective thinking. 

Looking back, though, he couldn’t even be sure that he loved her then as he did now, given that since then, she had become so wrapped up and inextricably intertwined in everything that he had poured his life into. The look of her walking through these halls, laughing with his sister, and sitting in the passenger seat of his car were the sorts of sights that he wished to see as repeatedly and often as he could. For as infatuated as he had been when he’d first really begun to see her fine eyes and undeniable spirit, there was no doubt that his life was now somehow or another tinted in shades of Lizzie Bennet from the moment Gigi had shoved them into an office together. 

At first, he thought he wouldn’t dare ask it, but the words slipped out before he could really stop himself. He had to know.

“Is that your only objection? This perceived lack of qualifications?”

He wasn’t entirely sure what he was expecting her to say that, and the part of him that still lived in last November wondered if he was only asking for things he didn’t want to hear.

“I mean, no, not really. I love it here. I love it so much. I’ll miss it, absolutely all of it. Even the hills have grown on me a little bit.”

Lizzie caught the inside of her bottom lip between her teeth, hoping that none of the previous sentence came out too awkwardly because she had never really imagined herself in a position where she would miss anything but her home this much, yet this time, there was something a little bittersweet about the thought of going home as she counted down the days until her graduation. She certainly had never really imagined being in a position to say- no, never say, she thought- but believe that she would miss Darcy. Lizzie would never say it, but she knew it was true anyway. She would come as close as she ever could by saying that the things she had found in San Francisco were things she loved. But it wasn’t right, as student intern on the brink of finally earning that degree, to fall in love with the CEO, was it? 

At the same time, she mused that they had really thrown any and all moral objectivity out the window a while ago, hadn’t they? It was by throwing their own views of moral absolutism out the window in the matter of Bing and Jane’s relationship that they’d reached an amicable sort of friendship. More than that, she really wasn’t sure she had any choice in the matter anymore. William Darcy occupied far too much of her mind and her frenzied heartbeats for her to call it anything else but love. Acting on it was another matter entirely. That was the one line she couldn’t cross, if only because they had crossed that line before. 

All the words Lizzie didn’t say, the questioning part of Darcy’s mind somehow still heard. He heard her say that she loved this city, this company. His city. His company. He wondered if it could mean that she at least had the potential to love him, as a part of the package. He thought that maybe when she said she would miss all of it that the inclusivity of such a statement could logically include him. 

All Lizzie could read on his face was the same sort of thoughtfulness that was always there. Darcy had the constant appearance of living inside his own head instead of in the world. 

“Well, then, if that is your sole source of reticence, let me reassure you that you are perfectly qualified, and I hope that you will give it some thought. If you find that you are happier elsewhere, then, by all means Lizzie, go and know that they would be lucky to have you.”

“I can’t imagine that there is anywhere else I could be happier than I am here.” Her eyes fluttered from the toe of her boot on the ground to the staunch bow of his right shoulder, just short of looking up at his face. It was quiet, and he wasn’t sure he had ever heard Lizzie Bennet sound so shy in her words. He’d heard it though, and there was the distinct feeling that this conversation wasn’t just about a job. Lizzie was talking about her life and the makings of her heart, and she was saying it in a voice loud enough for only him to hear. 

“Lizzie-”  
It came out husky and rough, lacking the carefully controlled and concerted manner his words usually possessed. In that moment, he was completely unhinged. He wasn’t even sure what to say, yet he had been unable to keep her name from crossing his lips- in awe and disbelief and all of the other feelings that she shouldn’t have been able to inspire in him. 

Lizzie was turning a brighter shade of pink every second, and her neck started to swelter just enough to add to her discomfort. Her hand crept up, scratching and tugging at the roots of her hair, while she flattened her palm against her neck to cool herself down and feel a little more grounded. 

There was no denying the nervousness that proximity to Darcy created in the pit of her stomach and her quivering fingers. However, she felt just as unsteady on her feet as Darcy stepped closer, reaffirming that this conversation was between the two of them and excluded even the hum of the air conditioning unit in the opposite corner of the room. 

“Lizzie, that’s all I need to know- that you’re happy. That you’re here, well, it’s all the better.” It was all he could bring himself to say, even though it came dangerously close to the ledge of jumping into territory that should remain untouched. This was by no means a strictly professional conversation anymore, though. He’d learned, since getting past the initial sting of her rejection, by watching the veracity of her hatred for him diminish, that seeing her happy brought him a sense of gratification in her happiness, even without him, and that was something personal that he offered up so that she was no longer the only really vulnerable one in the room. 

Lizzie watched the words fall from his mouth, and she noted that she had grown increasingly fond of the way that his dimples deepened when he said her name. Even if he didn’t really love her anymore, there was some satisfaction in knowing that her name managed to innately make him smile when he said it. She stepped closer, just so he would know that what she was about to say she would say to him, only him, and directly to his face. 

“Well. I am. How could I not be?”

That was enough to make Darcy believe that maybe there was still a chance with Lizzie Bennet for him. Apparently, by her own admission, his presence in her life for the last five weeks hadn’t barred her from loving her time in San Francisco. 

The hand that had been caught up in Lizzie’s hair dropped from her neck, and he could just barely feel her fingernails grazing along his forearm. When her hand reached his, she clasped it in hers. It could still, perhaps barely, be construed as a friendly sort of touch, but as he was overcome by the sensation of her tiny palm stretched across his, he couldn’t help but come a little closer and touch her a little bit more. His other hand, which had been awkwardly flitting between his tie, suspender, and pocket came up and grasped with his thumb and pointer finger that one piece of hair that liked to fall from her face and pushed it back behind her ear.

Lizzie was looking up at him now, and he had to wonder how he had managed to avoid observing those wonderfully vivid fine eyes for as long as he did. She elevated herself onto her tiptoes, until the top of her head was almost level with the tip of his nose, and she steadied herself by lightly clutching his suspender. 

“Thank you. I mean it.” She whispered to the corner of his mouth. 

He told himself later that Lizzie was the one who moved in first, leaning forward so she pressed farther into his chest and tilted her head up as far as she could, to the point where he could feel each puff of breath on his chin. There was no choice but to swoop down and loop his arm around her with his hand resting on her spine and pulling her flush against him to meld their lips together. Darcy’s arm around her waist lifted her up off of her tiptoes so that her feet just barely graced the ground, and the other one came to rest across her shoulders to keep her close to him, though he did his best not to trap her entirely. 

He was gentle, but she was furious.

Lizzie was sure that she’d never kissed or been kissed like this. The way that he almost had her off the floor gave her a heady sort of weightless feeling. As awkward as it was trying to bridge the height difference between them, she kept trying to grasp at more of him. She couldn’t be sure if it was in an effort to maintain her balance or simply because her hands needed to roam. Her hands smoothed across his shoulders, tugged at his tie, and pulled at his suspenders, mapping out the contours of his torso.

Darcy’s arms remained steadily where they began.

He finally began to set Lizzie back on her feet, and once the soles of her boots hit the floor, she stayed up on the balls of her feet, holding his shoulders down at her level. Eventually, her fury calmed, and they parted gently. Darcy’s eyes were still closed, or at least half-lidded, while Lizzie looked up at him with wide eyes. For all of the times she had appreciated just how attractive and august of a look Darcy usually had about him, there was something wonderfully exciting about the rumpled and slightly more out of sorts man that stood before her, with the sort of excitement that made her stomach buzz with what she could only describe as butterflies. 

Lizzie stepped towards him and wrapped her arms around him. She looked up at him and the sharp angle of his jaw before softly pressing a kiss to his chest through his shirt, right around where his heart rested underneath. She extricated herself from amongst his long limbs and took a deep breath, scared that if she stayed too long, the fantasy she had been living would all come crashing down.

“I should probably go. I haven’t eaten since eleven this morning. I- well, I will definitely consider the offer, Darcy. And-goodnight, I guess. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” 

The auburn-haired girl picked up her coat and scarf from the arm of the chair that sat in front of his desk and made her way out, glancing back at him with an unreadable expression as she crossed the threshold of his office door. 

William Darcy was still without words, but in the silence, he could feel the space where she was gone. Standing alone in his building, Darcy’s mind swirled with thoughts and ideas and, somehow or another, the concurrent voices of Gigi and Fitz, and all of it came down to the decision that as of tonight, without reservation or hesitation, he would woo Lizzie Bennet. This time he would do it the right way.


End file.
